


Exposing a Phantom

by valeriacatulli



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Historical Reenactment, M/M, Martial Arts, Newspapers, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Public Nudity, Reylo - Freeform, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 02:31:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15571737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valeriacatulli/pseuds/valeriacatulli
Summary: At a small New England college, a mysterious trio of streakers have been harassing the sci-fi club. Rey Nemo, editor-in-chief and main reporter of the college paper, is determined to solve the mystery and protect her friends from the plague of pasty butts. But the universe might have other plans...





	1. The Phantom Men-Ass

_Waverley College, Massachusetts: 2005_

 

A crash. A slam. A yelp.

Sometimes Rey wished her roommate was a little less accident-prone. Now was one of those times. Rose had just awoken her from a really extremely necessary nap.

Last night was the print deadline for the _Waverley Watchman_ , the college paper. Rey was the editor-in-chief, as well as the only person who reliably wrote stories about anything other than sports. Her friend Bibi, a cuddly and hilarious math major from Tel Aviv, somehow had a great eye for design and layout, so he met Rey all-nighter for all-nighter when deadlines loomed.

All in all they were a great team. But Rey did NOT get enough sleep.

"What is going on?!?" she grumped at Rose. "And what time is it?"

Rose smiled cheerfully around the edge of the refrigerator door as she pulled out a few items to whip up dinner for herself. "It's six p.m. and I just got home from CrossFit. I am totally wiped! Like I cannot feel my legs! It's fantastic!"

Okay then, thought Rey. She kept her feelings about CrossFit to herself, though. "Are you meeting with your club tonight then?" Rey asked.

"Yup! We're going to watch the old Soviet version of _Solaris_ from like the Seventies. Last time we watched the George Clooney one, and we've all been reading the book, so then it should be an excellent discussion!"

"I'm sure that will be nice," Rey said, not really paying attention to what Rose was talking about. "Have you had any more problems with those naked blokes?"

"No, thank goodness," laughed Rose. "It was only right at the beginning of the semester. Three butts in that weird window off to the side of our club meeting room. Gone before we could get outside. The first two weeks of the club. Why do you keep asking a month later?"

"Well..." Rey wondered whether it was best to be honest or skirt the truth. She settled for a straightforward approach. "Actually Rose, my coverage of those incidents has brought more web traffic to the _Waverly Watchman_ website than any other coverage I have done in the four years we have been here. People from all over the world come to the site and read about those ijits! I just wish we could catch the people who did it. It would be very compelling reading!"

'Ah, yes, the journalism angle," Rose huffed. "Naming your story 'The Phantom Men-Ass' was a stroke of genius, but I would much rather spare my eyes. You're always welcome to come along and monitor the situation if you want. You know the boys love you!"

Rey smiled, thinking about the sci-fi club members. Poe was a master's degree student who lived in the same house right off campus as Bibi. Finn, Poe's boyfriend, was a senior like Rey and Rose. He sometimes helped with the paper, calling local businesses to secure advertising funds. The five of them were very close.

"All right then, Rose. I feel like I haven't slept in years, but I will come to your meeting," Rey sighed.

*********************

Once they were settled in the projection room in Cranston Hall, Rey zoned out. The lights were dimmed and Poe and Finn were embracing on the couch at the back of the room. Rose and Bibi were watching the odd film with rapt attention. Rey tried to watch, but all it did was remind her of the weird Italian communist version of _Overboard_  that she had tried to watch when she thought Kurt Russell was hot. _Swept Away_?Was that the title?

She zoned out and started tapping out a text message on her phone. Poe and Finn, behind her, didn't care about the bright glow because they were busy making out. The other dozen or so club members were seated in front of her so they did not notice her distraction. 

Eventually Rey realized anyone who wasn't in the room with her right now probably didn't want a text message from her this late at night. Like, her professors might not want a text message at all! She sighed and put her phone down momentarily to check in on the film and look around the room. She noted the clerestory window where, according to Rose and the other club members, three pale butts had appeared. As she contemplated the window, Rey got a surprise. One that was unwelcome, objectively, but for the good of the paper was welcome.

Ass cheeks.

For a moment, Rey stared at the offending _gluteus maximus_ muscles. One set was very pale. The second set was taller, utterly hairless, and slightly more shapely. The last set was slightly shorter, and covered in a coat of ginger hair. This one sported a tattoo, much to Rey's delight. Phi Omicron -- the Greek letters of the First Order fraternity.

Letting out a squeal, Rey leaped from her seat and ran for the front door of the building. It was her responsibility as a journalist to confront the flashers and try to determine their identity and motivations. The fraternity letters were a significant clue.

By the time she exited the building, the flashers were starting to stir from their spot. But her quest for their identity was foiled. The offenders wore masks! The tattooed ginger wore a silly Scream mask. The curvaceous butt turned out to belong to a woman, judging from the tits on display, but her head was covered by a Star Wars stormtrooper mask that had been spray painted silver. The last guy wore a Darth Vader mask, but that wasn't what drew Rey's attention. Outlined against his pale thighs was the most amazingly massive cock she had ever seen. 

The Phantom Menace, indeed.


	2. Attack of the Cojones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey investigates the streakers for purely professional, journalistic reasons. Bibi and Poe set a trap.

Rey was thankful at that moment that she had excellent reflexes. She whipped out her phone and quickly snapped some photos of the offenders before they noticed her presence. When they did, they ran off as quickly as possible. Rey tried to chase after them, but between her exhaustion and the fact that the three streakers had freakishly long legs, she didn't have a chance. Breathing heavily, she trudged back to Cranston Hall.

Rose was waiting outside for her when she returned. 

"Did you catch them?" she asked excitedly.

"I got photos, I think! But didn't have a hope of unmasking them. Here, let's see how the photos turned out," Rey responded. She swiped through her phone. One of the images was blurry but the other two were quite clear. 

Rose peeked over her shoulder. "OMG," she giggled, covering her mouth. "Darth Vader is hung! You can't print these in the paper, can you?"

Rey's brow furrowed. "Obviously I'd have to blur some...things out," she said. "Streakers don't have a legitimate expectation of privacy, but I can't print something that would be offensive to community standards. Dean Snoke would probably say that printing the pictures would be offensive even censored, but if I just put them in the online edition he will never know. Dude is ancient," she laughed. "And by publicizing it, maybe someone will recognize them and we can catch the culprits and stop you guys being harassed anymore. I just wish I'd gotten any snaps of the actual butts. Ginger there had a Phi Omicron tattoo right on his arse."

Rose hummed. "I don't really know anybody in that frat. But Bibi probably does. He seems to know everybody. Maybe we can have him and Poe host a party and lay a trap to find out who these guys are!"

"What kind of a trap?" mused Rey. "Are you thinking entice them to torment sci fi club members? Or get everyone playing strip poker so we can see if there are any matches with these incriminating photos?"

"No, that would be awful!" laughed Rose. "I can't even imagine inviting a bunch of fratty bros over and trying to scope out their butts, or, you know. Not a good plan. Just asking around, seeing if there are people who match the description who hang out together. The woman for instance must not be a frat member, but maybe there is a women's basketball player who hangs with them or something."

"Well, it never hurts to get Bibi to have a party, right?" Rey smiled. "I don't think it will work, but I support your plan. Let's go."

*******************************************

The next couple days were a whirlwind. Rey didn't have a print edition of the _Watchman_ coming out for another five days, which seemed far too long to let such an exciting story languish. So she updated the paper's online edition with a new story entitled "Attack of the Cojones." Any actual cojones, pendejos, or other unmentionables were of course blurred out from the photos, but the response to the story was once again astounding. The gossip all over campus was intense, with everyone trying to figure out who the streakers were. 

Rey followed the comments with interest. She had mentioned the Phi Omicron tattoo in the accompanying story, and a flurry of anonymous posts were quick to denounce the First Order as a bunch of geeks who obviously would streak wearing dorky _Star Wars_ disguises. Rey was amused to find that the many "different" anonymous posters all came from a single IP address in the dorm that housed Phi Omicron's biggest rival fraternity, the Empire (Ipsilon Mu Pi, or "Imp" as most people called it). Why would geeks harass the sci-fi club instead of attending it? Probably, the Imp guy was just a hater.

Meanwhile Bibi was preparing to host a party on the following weekend, per Rey and Rose's request. He had reached out to Doph Mitaka, a pretty chill First Order member who played bass in a cover band. Bibi figured that if he got Mitaka's band to play, probably a lot of First Order members would show up to support him. 

Things were looking up until Rey was called into the office of emeritus Professor Skywalker, the student paper's longtime sponsor. He was very concerned about the taste of her decision to post the censored photo online.

"Who are they hurting, anyway, Rey? This is college. People do stupid stuff. With the internet the way it is right now, you posting these articles and these photos may have implications for whether these kids can get jobs in a few years."

Rey huffed. "They are sexually harassing the sci fi club by mooning them. Whoever these clowns are, they need to take responsibility for their actions. If that means they don't get jobs, so be it. It was their decision."

Professor Skywalker sighed, shaking his head. "Rey, I wish you would spend some more time meditating on the Platform Sutra of the Sixth Patriarch. There are things that matter in life, but a few butts outside a window is not one of them. On the other hand, I understand, you run the paper and you are looking for exciting news. Just, please try to put yourself in their shoes."

"What, wear only trainers and run around campus in the altogether?" Rey joked cheekily. She knew Skywalker was well-intentioned toward her, even if he was pretty grumpy. 

"No, not what I meant at all! Argh," the professor made a dismissive gesture with his hands. "Just get out of here, okay?"

Rey did not hesitate to comply. After all, she only had a few hours until the big party. What would be her strategy to unmask the culprits?

*************************************

 As it turned out, not only was Bibi a great host, he also had a knack for finding out all sorts of information about his party guests. Rey watched with awe as he welcomed Doph and his bandmates and encouraged him to send any of his frat brothers Bibi's way for the inside line on where to find the best beer hidden away. He also happened to drop a hint that he had a wager ongoing with his roommates about whether he could get a woman who was at least a head taller than him to give him her number. Doph laughed and said he had the perfect person in mind.

Clearly, Bibi was well on his way to identifying all the possible suspects. Rey would just have to narrow it down. For the time being, then, she could sit back and enjoy the party.

Rey drifted into the next room where Poe was helping the drummer set up his kit. She served herself an indeterminate cocktail -- probably a Moscow Mule or the like -- from the large punchbowl that sat on the table that usually served as Bibi's desk, and started tapping out a text message to Rose. She wasn't sure exactly when a lean form appeared on the couch next to her, but she definitely noticed when he lightly touched her thigh.

"Hey babe," a voice accompanied the unwelcome caress, "what's so interesting in dat phone of yours? It's not every Tursday ye get to hear a band of dis caliber."

The melodic Irish accent emerged from an unfortunate scowl on an even more unfortunate face. The skinny, pale bastard could be a ginger, Rey mused, but it was impossible to tell: he'd dyed his hair Joker green. 

"What's your name," she spat out.

"Hux. Ye'll be wanting my number too," he grinned, moving his hand farther up her thigh.

"No such luck, Hugs. I just wanted to know who to tell my friends to look out for, creeper," Rey retorted, before leaping off the couch like it was hot coals and retreating to the kitchen. Hux lingered on the couch unphased, but a dark shadow peeled away from the corner of the room and slipped into the kitchen.

**************************************

Rey felt her hand shaking mildly as she inserted herself into the largest group she could find talking in the black-and-white tiled kitchen. It was Finn and four other dudes grousing about a math final from Linear Algebra, which she had passed a long time ago. Still, it was better than feeling exposed to tools. 

After a few minutes of nodding and not really participating in the conversation, she thought she felt someone's gaze on her back. When she turned surreptitiously, all she could see was one tall, black-haired dorky dude squinting at the labels on a bottle of Grey Goose and a bottle of vanilla Smirnoff. As she watched, he sighed, poured a generous helping of the Grey Goose over a glass full of ice, and downed half of it. He looked up then, and met her gaze.

He smiled. 

Rey acknowledged him with a crook of her eyebrow and walked over. "Tough choice?" she teased.

"I usually drink Ketel One," he humblebragged, "so I didn't really know what to choose."

"I see," she nodded with mock seriousness. "I prefer to acquiesce to the hosts' taste. The Moscow Mule in the other room is quite good."

"I saw you in there," he admitted. "Sorry about Hux. He's kind of a tool."

"Really, you don't say?" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "I should hire you for the paper, you have such penetrating insight."

He colored at that, clearly repressing the urge to say something inappropriate.

"Well, uh, if you hired me, I, uh, I would like that."

Rey smiled. "What's your name, then?"

"Ben. Ben Solo. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Ben."

 


	3. Fight Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey uncovers the First Order's secrets. Literally.

Rey was still smiling at _Ben Solo_ through a pleasant haze of Moscow Mule when Bibi suddenly popped up at her elbow. 

"Benjamin!" he exclaimed, turning with a conspiratorial comment to Rey, "We Benjamins have to stick together, you know." Turning back to Ben Solo and embracing him enthusiastically in a way that clearly made the taller American uncomfortable, he began to fire off a number of questions. If Rey was honest it was a lot of the same questions she would have been asking herself, so she just had to look up at him through her eyelashes, sip her cocktail and pay attention.

"What brought you out tonight to Doph's concert?" Bibi asked excitedly. "You never come out to their concerts! Did Phas insist? She seems like quite the character."

"Phas?" Rey inquired nonchalantly.

"Phasmagoria Deluca," Bibi said by way of non-explanation. Seeing that Rey was still confused, he continued. "She is the new vocalist for Doph's group. He introduced me so I could win my bet. She is...statuesque. Argentinean, I would guess one quarter Italian and three quarters escaped Nazi."

Rey furrowed her brow. "Isn't that...problematic?"

Bibi giggled. "I just have to get her number. Leaving a Nazi scion hanging will be my pleasure!" Rey shook her head, and Bibi returned to interrogating Ben.

"So..." he gesticulated madly.

"No," Ben said tersely. "Phas didn't make me come. I just wanted to get out of the house. Hux was pissing me the fuck off. Little did I know he was planning to be here too," he sighed heavily.

"You are housemates with Hux?" Rey inquired.

"Yeah, over at Phi Omicron. He's the president so he kind of calls the shots. Definitely too full of himself," Ben groused.

"If you don't like living there why do you pay to stay?" Rey asked.

Ben looked at her like she had two or three heads. "Have you noticed a lot of spacious real estate up close to campus?" he asked rhetorically. "No? So yeah. I was a legacy, from my grandfather, so I put up with their shit and get a great place to live. Besides, there are some good guys and we share some interests."

"Like what?" Bibi pressed eagerly.

"Well actually," Ben started to sound pompous, "First Order has been dedicated to Historical European Martial Arts for generations. Fencing, broadsword, javelin, longbow, all that stuff. Kick ass while learning about your heritage. It used to be mostly fencing in my grandfather's time, but we take more of a reenactment approach and try to really embody the historical era in the past."

"Ah, so burninate the peasants?" prods Bibi.

"Hear the lamentations of their women?" Rey asks, cocking an eyebrow.

"Don't mock," Ben intones deeply. "I happen to be descended from both Genghis Khan and Attila."

Rey looks at him with mild stupefaction. "And you're...proud of that?" she ventures.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asks. "I mean, I recognize that some significant percentage of people on earth are descended from Genghis Khan. It's in the genetics. But both of them? I count myself lucky."

After Rey recovered from her coughing fit, she tried a different tack. "What exactly does having Genghis Khan as an ancestor have to do with European martial arts? Or Attila, honestly. I mean, yeah, Hungary now, but back then wasn't he from central Asia?"

Ben launched into a taxonomy of martial arts that Rey couldn't be bothered to follow in detail, so she mostly focused on downing her drink at way too rapid of a speed and following it up with another. Eventually he noticed.

"I get the feeling I'm boring you, Rey. Anything else you have to inquire about, journalist?"

"Well, actually," she slurred slightly, "One of the comments suggested that Phi Omicron is a bunch of geeks and losers. I'm starting to put two and two together -- are you the gentlemen who LARP on the main quad on Friday afternoons?"

Ben pinked a little. "It's not LARPing. We aren't, like, 'I'm Ben the Monk and I have 15 strength.' We're practicing a real martial art with real armor and if someone really attempted to kick my ass I could really defend myself using it."

"Is that so?" Rey pushed. "Are practitioners of other styles welcome? Because I know some people who are pretty dedicated to jiujitsu. Maybe they could make it interesting for you."

He snorted quietly. "I'd like to see them try."

There was a pause. "Well then," Rey said, too cheerily. "I, uh, is the band going start playing any time soon? I don't think I really need any more to drink at this point. Maybe I'll go talk to Finn. Nice meeting you, Genghis." She walked away, not looking back, too quickly for Ben to respond, so he just stood there choking on his vodka a little bit.

"Who's Finn?" he wondered, half aloud.

************************************************

The next Friday, the sun shone brightly through departing clouds as the "gentlemen" of First Order gathered in a depression in the middle of the main green space of the college campus. Each combatant was dressed in his usual garb and carried his customary weapons. Doph wore a sleeveless leather jerkin belted at the waist; it sometimes did duty as his on-stage wear when he was backing heavier groups on his bass. Attached to the belt were numerous throwing knives. For the sake of not getting expelled from the school, they were just prop knives; he would pick up a staff for these weekly brawls. 

Ben sat on the hill polishing his broadsword. His shield, which was decorated with the Latin motto of the fraternity and the letters "K.Y.L.O.," lay on the ground. A half sandwich and the remains of a bag of potato chips lay in its center. He wore a sturdy padded tunic and various pieces of chain mail lay next to him. Hux was the other person who wore a costume. His was Scottish, with a plaid kilt and a tartan thrown over his pale shoulder. He carried a large axe. The remaining attendees had an assortment of wooden swords, shields and staves to practice with.

They were just assembling in position for some initial sparring when a pair of unexpected figures began to descend from the lip of the hollow. One was a young African-American man, dressed all in black clothing that looked suitable for working out. To Ben, he looked familiar, but only Doph remembered that his name was Finn and he had been at the house party. The other person was slightly smaller and slighter than Finn. It was impossible to make out anything about this person's identity because they were totally concealed by their costume. It was a bit reminiscent of a mummy costume, or a Tusken Raider if you were into _Star Wars_. The cloths were all tan and brown and closely wrapped the person's head, arms and legs. A large tan poncho concealed their body, making it hard to determine if they were male or female. This person brought along a staff of sorts: a long pole with a blade attached to the end.

"Afternoon, guys. Mind if we join you?" asked Finn. "I do Brazilian jiujitsu and my friend here is amazing with the naginata. We heard you might be interested in seeing if Historical European Martial Arts are really better than martial arts from other places or not."

Hux stared at him, lip curling. "BJJ? You can't claim any sort of historical authenticity for that at all."

"Who said anything about historical authenticity?" Finn stared right back. "You're the apparent Scotsman who is actually so Irish he dyed his fucking hair green."

Hux gave him a look of death until Ben spoke up. "Let's do it. Come on, we can kick these guys' asses and then return to our regularly scheduled program of kicking each other's asses."

Hux nodded, swallowing bitterly. Ben sauntered over to the two challengers. "All right. I'm best with weapons, so I'll take our little friend here with the naginata. Hux will face the jiujitsu guy. Unless you two have any objections?"

The newcomers exchanged a look and Finn cleared his throat. "Actually, we were hoping for a bit of a battle royale. My friend and I can face you two, assuming everyone has dull edges. No biting, no ear pulling," he smirked at Ben, "and if you are bleeding you are out. You can get bandaged up and come back in."

"How do you figure who wins then?" Doph asked.

"You can yield."

"I think you are crazy, but we can give this a try. If this is still going on in twenty minutes, we call a truce," Ben added.

Several of the First Order guys sketched out the square bounds of a fight enclosure with spare clothing and equipment while the four combatants finished gearing up and stretching. At a signal from Doph, the fighting began. 

Anyone watching would have to admit that Ben was a pretty impressive figure as he wielded his sword. Its heft was impressive as he swung it through the air. He had chosen to leave his helmet on the sidelines (the damn thing obliterated his peripheral vision, which was kindof important when fighting more than one person), so his hair also flopped around impressively as he fought. He wished he had the forethought to put it in a manbun. At first, he hacked and slashed in the general direction of the jiujitsu practitioner, but Finn rapidly closed to grappling with Hux. Somehow he managed to get both his hands on the handle of the axe, so the two of them were struggling with each other over the weapon.

Ben stepped back since he didn't want to swipe Hux while he was dancing around with Finn. He spun slowly toward the other combatant, who had been harassing Hux' other flank. Very sneaky of the two challengers to both attack one target. Something kept Ben from putting his full force into his swing, but he got the naginata-wielder's attention pretty quick. They took two quick steps back to recalibrate and regain balance, before advancing on him with a flurry of wiggling blade and piercing shrieks.

It was Ben's turn to step back, and as his opponent approached he sidestepped, bringing his shield down hard on their shoulder. They groaned loudly, staggering back toward the other two combatants. The axe, apparently, had gotten ejected from the ring. That must have been Finn's doing because Hux would have done anything to hold onto the thing. Now the men had grabbed each other's shoulders and were circling. As Ben watched, Finn ducked under, destabilizing Hux. The other challenger saw their chance and rushed at him from the side at waist level with the naginata. 

It was all Ben could do to keep from laughing at his fraternity brother as Hux tripped and fell to the ground on his face...just at the exact moment that the naginata snagged the edge of his painstakingly chosen tartan plaid kilt. A dreadful rending rip sound split the air as a big chunk of the back of Hux' kilt remained attached to the second opponent's weapon. And...apparently Hux believed all the stereotypes about Scotsmen. He was wearing nothing under his kilt, so with it torn, everyone could see the big Phi Omicron tattoo on his buttcheek.

"Aha!" the first word escaped the mouth of the tightly muffled second challenger. If there had been any doubt from the shrieking earlier, it was now clear that the naginata-wielding combatant was a girl. And Ben suspected that she was, in fact, _the_ girl. She didn't give him much time to think about it, though, because after detaching her weapon from the shredded kilt she was turning to face him once more, even still shaking out her injured shoulder. Ben smirked, trying to convey the vibe of "come at me" while doing an ornate display of spinning his sword. He was just coming back to his defensive stance when a stinging sensation broke out on the right side of his face. Faster than he could even see it, she had hit him in the face!

"Aaah!" he yelled out gutturally, grabbing his face and sinking to one knee. A quick glance revealed that he was bleeding from his forehead, and he threw down his weapons in a rage to stalk to the sideline and find some sort of bandage. A moment later he felt someone tugging at his sleeve. Turning around angrily, he saw the girl. She rapidly unwrapped the weird mummy facemask she was wearing and offered it to him.

"Here, take this and bandage that," she said firmly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think it could..." she trailed off.

Ben couldn't say anything at all. Rey was there, looking up at him and offering him gauze to wrap the injury she just inflicted on his face after humiliating Hux... It was too perfect. He just sort of stood there doing nothing and gaping.

Rey was still there, but her expression shifted to one of concern. "I...are you ok? I'm so sorry. You know what? I yield. This fight is over and you can say that you won," she blurted out rapidly. "I was just here to... well, it doesn't matter but anyway I got what I came for and I am SO sorry about your face and if there is anything..."

"Shut up," was all Ben could manage in the face of her torrent of words. She stopped suddenly and looked up at him with wide eyes.

He looked back at her. It was too tempting. Her face was just inches from his. She was panting, sweaty, she had just sliced his face open with a historical weapon from the women warriors of the samurai era in Japan. Ben was fucked. He might as well give it a go. He closed the distance and smooshed his mouth onto hers.

Rey's eyes opened in surprise, but after a moment she responded enthusiastically. She wrapped her arms around his sweaty neck and kissed him fervently. Who knows where their embrace could have gone? Unfortunately, the sound of Finn clearing his throat induced them to break apart. They both kept staring at each other.

"Um, guys? So...Hux was really pissed and ran off," Finn couldn't surpress a chuckle. "And I don't really appreciate you yielding our competition, Rey! But whatever. Don't you have a deadline to meet?"

"Oh shit, yeah!" Rey turned to Ben. "So...some other time? Like, sparring, or something?" He just stared at her. Finn snorted. "Yeah, sparring is what they are calling it now?"

Finn gently guided Rey away. They had places to be and articles to write.

 

 


	4. Revenge of the S***

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get messy for our plucky reporter, Rey.

"Indecent Exposure Exposé"! the headline blared. Rey Nemo laid out the evidence in her latest online report: Armitage Hux, president of the Phi Omicron or "First Order" fraternity, was one of the streakers who had been harassing the sci-fi club. Not only did she and Finn witness that he had a matching tattoo to the Scream-masked streaker, photographic evidence was also captured. Apparently a major benefit of the proliferation of camera flip-phones on campus that year was that when a Scottish reenactor in a half-demolished kilt runs by, lots of students can take pictures of his butt to laugh at later with their friends. Or, to share with the newspaper.

Rey's article not only made a clear case for the streaker's identity, it also explored the full range of laws and campus regulations that would impose punishments on someone for streaking. Hux would be brought before the Honor Council and the Dean and could lose his ability to participate in Greek life, depending on their findings. Of course, similar consequences would also occur for the other two streakers if they could be identified, and any of the three had the potential to reduce their own punishment by shopping their co-conspirators.

Hux proved surprisingly silent on the matter of his fellow streakers. He seemed like the sort who would sacrifice his fellows to save his own skin, but he kept his mouth shut.

"It's just because he's embarrassed that, even with the blurred pictures, it was totally clear that I was--uhh!--better hung than him," Ben whispered into Rey's ear as he thrust vigorously into her. Things had progressed...rapidly since they faced off on the quad a few days before. Now they were passionately fucking on the large, worn-out couch in the newspaper office. Part of Rey's brain worried that he was just seducing her so that she wouldn't turn him in to the dean and the Honor Council and interfere with his successful progress to the degree. But another part knew that he knew that she didn't have any way to match up her picture of the naked dude in the Darth Vader mask with Ben Solo. Until he stripped, that is. _Now_ he was at her mercy.

Rey knows well by now that, if Scream Guy was Hux and Vader was Ben, Spray-Painted Stormtrooper must have been Phasma Deluca. But Bibi asked her to hold off and not turn in Phasma either, so it's basically only Hux who has gone through the disciplinary process.

Since the dean involved was Snoke, basically no one was surprised when Hux got off with a slap on the wrist. He needed to organize an extra community service activity for Phi Omicron this semester. Big whoop.

At least the streaking seemed to have ended. Ben seemed a little sheepish when Rey brought it up; he honestly didn't know why it seemed like a good idea at the time. There was something about Hux wanting to persecute Poe, who had rejected his advances. It was all very vague. 

Now, satiated, Ben was falling asleep in a state of disarray on the newspaper staff couch. Rey stood up and pulled her panties and leggings back on. She was terribly hungry and determined to solve that problem. The newspaper occupied a couple of weird attic rooms, previously used for storage, in the Hosnian Systems Engineering Laboratory building. It was located off one end of the green, so she would have a bit of a walk to grab something to eat. 

She pulled on her jacket, shut the door to the newspaper room gently and locked it. Wouldn't do for anyone to walk in on Ben pantsless on the couch. She slipped down the adjacent staircase and pushed open the door only to encounter a most unpleasant surprise! Flames, smoke, and a horrid stench billowed up from the front stoop of the building. Rey quickly pulled her tunic over her face to avoid breathing the choking fumes.  

Thinking quickly, Rey first grabbed the campus phone next to the door and called the emergency number. After reporting the fire, she looked for something to smother the blaze. It seemed to be contained to a pretty limited area and unlikely to torch the door or building, but it created an appalling odor. The flames emerged from a small brown heap and something suggested the origin might have been a bag of dog poop. She definitely did _not_ want to stomp on it to find out!

Soon the path in front of the Hosnian building was filled with emergency vehicles with flashing lights. The commotion must have awoken Ben from his slumber on the couch in the attic, because he burst from the front of the building a minute later, suddenly, his hair in disarray.

"Phew, you're all right," he sighed, clasping Rey to his side as the firefighters extinguished the flaming poop. 

"Your sweatpants are on backwards," she noted drily. He flushed, covering it by kissing the side of her head.

"I wonder who did it," Rey mused. "What's anyone got against Systems Engineering?"

"Well, the sign for the newspaper office is right on that door," Ben said. "I'm worried it was meant for you. From Hux or his flunkies."

"And I should trust you didn't do it?" Rey quirked an eyebrow, carefully keeping her mouth shut firm. Giggling would give away her game.

"How exactly would I have set fire to a bag of poop while we were--" Ben found himself cut off as Rey pressed her palm suddenly over his mouth. Of course, he licked her hand, and she couldn't resist laughing any longer.

"Hux it is then," she guessed. "I suppose the title of my next article will write itself."

"What's that?" asked Ben. "You had a Star Wars theme going on for a while there, didn't you?"

Rey nodded. "And this one is going to be Revenge of the Shit."

Ben groaned. "You're terrible, Rey, you know that?"

"Yes I do," she smiled up at him. "But I'm your terrible."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks! I know this was sort of a goofy story focused around punny titles, and it didn't pick up a lot of readership. I'm new to AUs so it's probably to be expected. I might attach some little vignettes later with my favorite side characters like Bibi and Phasmagoria. Who knows! If you read I hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> "Nemo" sounds a bit like "Niima," but is a little less unlikely. Plus it means "nobody" in Latin! Perfect for my Rey!


End file.
